


The Only One

by AnotherGallavichLove



Series: Prompts [68]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Getting Back Together, Kissing, M/M, Tattoos, post 5x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 22:51:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5603950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherGallavichLove/pseuds/AnotherGallavichLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on these prompts: </p>
<p>Please, could you write a story where after 5x12, Mickey while is in jail is attacked by Terry and ends up in hospital. There, he will meet a doctor who will help him realize that he can have future, is worthy to being loved and that he isn't a trash. Mickey with his help decides to change his life. He decides to study, finds a legal job, starts to have a relationship with Yev (is a great dad) and he stops being angry all the time. What happen when he and Ian meet?</p>
<p>Could you please do one where after 5x12, Ian pretends to feel good. One night, he gets drunk and he goes by a tattooist for a tattoo. It's on the left part of the chest, above the heart and is the name of Mickey. What happen when Mickey see it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Only One

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how this ended up. My head is still a little bit hazey from all of the drama. This may be the worst fic I've ever written, but I hope you can forgive me for it.

Mickey remembers a fist swinging at him, not much more. Maybe it had been two or fifteen, he wasn’t too sure. All he knew was that his entire body was throbbing all the way from his toes, down into his fingertips and his head was the worst part. It wasn’t the good kind of throbbing either, this was the kind that you get after you’re beaten up. Badly.

 

Fuck, Mickey had been beaten up more times than he could possibly count, but he doubted that he had ever felt this horrible in the past.

 

He swallowed roughly, and bit by bit, managed to open his eyes. He expected to see the cement ceiling of his cell, and he expected to feel the coarse material of his orange jumpsuit on his skin. Neither of those turned out to be the reality.

 

Instead, his eyes landed on a white ceiling, made up out of plain squares. He didn’t have to look down from it to realize where he was. The soft mumble of the small television along with the quiet beeps of the machines around him were clues enough. He was in the hospital.

 

Holy fuck.

 

It must have been really fucking bad for him to get taken here. Thankfully, he gently moved his fingers and his toes, and the nerves and muscles obeyed him. At least he wasn’t paralyzed. Always something.

 

”Mister Milkovich. You’re awake” Mickey frowned, turning his head to look in the direction of the voice. He winced at the slicing pain in his neck as he did so.

 

”What…?” He asked, he couldn’t get further. His throat hurt so fucking bad, and he just knew his right eye was blown up enough that the doctor probably couldn’t even see it.

 

Mickey wasn’t an idiot, he knew exactly what had happened, how he had gotten here. Who had gotten him here. He didn’t remember Terry coming at him, but he knew.

 

”My name is doctor Williams. It would be best if you wouldn’t talk for a day or two” The doctor explained, pulling out a small notepad. ”You were beaten up pretty badly” He continued, eyes on the paper.

 

”No fucking shit” Mickey spit, immediately wincing at the pain again, and promising himself to take the old man’s advice and keep his mouth shut for a couple of days.

 

Williams looked at him for a second, and then looked back down, scribbling something down.

 

”You’re a very lucky man” Mickey frowned, ignoring his facial muscles screaming at him for it. Thankfully, the doctor saw and understood what his facial expression meant, sparing him the pain of asking ’The fuck?’. ”Your injuries are very severe” He clarified for Mickey. ”And on top of that, being a homosexual in prison can’t be easy”

 

”The fuck you just say?” Mickey asked, sitting up as much as he could, completely ignoring the pain in his body and throat by now.

 

Mickey wasn’t ashamed that he was gay anymore, but that didn’t mean that he wanted everybody to know. The less people who knew, the less chance he had of getting a beat down in the joint, then again… here he was.

 

”Calm down” Doctor Williams said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and easing him to lay down again. ”Don’t strain yourself”

 

Something about the kind look in his eyes made Mickey swallow, wince, and then obey, his back hitting the soft mattress again.

 

”How…?” Mickey asked then. How the fuck did this stranger - doctor or not - find out that he was gay, just like that?

 

”Word gets around. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Mr Milkovich” Mickey’s head was spinning, trying to figure out why the fuck this man wanted to talk to him about his sexual orientation. That couldn’t be in the job description.

 

”The fuck you wanna say?” Mickey asked, aiming for it to sound threatening, but really, it probably came out really weak.

 

”Well…” The doctor cleared his throat and looked down at his notepad. ”I looked over your records, and I noticed that you probably haven’t had a very easy life”

 

”So fucking what?” Mickey asked, unable to keep from speaking despite his earlier promise to himself.

 

”I understand…” The doctor began, putting the notepad away to give Mickey his full attention. ”That it can be difficult to believe, but your life does not have to be like this. From what I’ve seen, you’re not a bad guy”

 

Mickey frowned even harder, but somehow, his thick brick wall was starting to crumble.

 

”The fuck’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, looking down at one of his purple splattered hands.

 

”It’s supposed to mean that you are in and out of prison. And maybe that’s because you think that’s all that you can be, but that’s wrong” The doctor explained, and before Mickey could fire anything back, he continued. ”You know… I recognize that his is unprofessional, but I’ve been where you are. I come from a bad part of town, with people telling me I was worthless. Now look at me. I’m a doctor” The dark voice hugged the words, and for some reason, it made Mickey think.

 

”So fucking what?” Mickey asked. ”I don’t wanna be a doctor” The man nodded.

 

”I’m not saying that you have to be a doctor. Or a lawyer, or anything like that. I’m just saying that… you don’t have to go back to prison”

 

Mickey gnawed at the inside of his bottom lip, eyes nowhere near the doctor’s. He despised the fact that he was considering it. Being better. What the fuck did that even mean?

 

Mickey knew that he wasn’t a bad person, but he was on the other hand a criminal, he always had been.

 

”Gotta go back for another year anyway” He mumbled finally, and the doctor chuckled lowly, his voice comparable to Michael Clarke Duncan. He kind of looked like him too, now that Mickey thought about it.

 

”No, you don’t. With your injuries, they let you off. When you’re all healed up, you’re a free man”

 

”You kidding me?” Mickey asked, and Williams shook his head.

 

”No. That’d be cruel, wouldn’t it?” Mickey shrugged in agreement. ”You’re not trash, Mickey. No one is” It was the first time he had said Mickey’s name, and for some reason, it made him listen even more intently.

  
”Look…” Mickey begun, itching to thumb his bottom lip, he stopped himself, though. That would hurt like a fucking bitch. ”Even if I wanted to do better or whatever the fuck, I got no money. No experience. No clue how to do any of that”

 

Williams nodded slowly, as if he was taking in the words.

 

”What if I helped you?”

 

  
Somehow, over the next month or two, doctor Williams became somewhat of a friend to Mickey. Almost like an older brother or some shit. They didn’t really ’hang out’. But Williams helped Mickey with whatever he needed, and soon, he had both a job and a pretty decent place to crash.

 

It wasn’t much, fuck, the fact that Mickey could afford it on his own with the money he was making from the grocery store was proof of that. But it was his, and somehow, just because of that, he felt better than he had in a long time.

 

Mickey was also taking classes at the local community college - something he had never ever seen himself even begin to think about doing, but here he was. Actually getting somewhere in life.

 

Six months after the attack in prison, he had his life together. Fuck knows how exactly it happened, but he knew that he owed it all to Williams.

 

His life came full circle on a Sunday, right after he had dropped Yevgeny off at his mothers. Mickey did feel bad that he hadn’t been there for his son in the beginning, but if he was honest, he had always loved him. Yevgeny was a part of him, his child, how could he not?

 

Of course, it had been hard with how he was conceived, but that wasn’t Yevgeny’s fault. And now he was - there for his son, that was. And it felt pretty great.

 

During the past few months, it was as if a weight had been lifted off of his chest - one he hadn’t even known he had been carrying about.

 

”Have a nice day” He said with a smile, to the lady leaving his cash register, mentally rolling his eyes at the fact that he had to do that every time. ”Hello, did you see the sale we have on the valentines gifts?” Mickey repeated the rehearsed line on the next customer without looking up as he started ringing up his things.

 

”Mickey?”

 

Mickey froze at the sound. The oh so familiar voice that made a chill go through his veins. Not in a bad way. Or a good way. Just in a way that he couldn’t quite explain just yet.

 

He was more than completely sure about who it was before he even looked up. He was right, too. Because as soon as he did, his blue eyes connected with the green ones.

 

”Ian” He said, cursing himself for how weak and fragile he sounded. Really, he was just really fucking taken off guard.

 

”I didn’t… I thought you would still be um…”

 

”Locked up? No. Got out a few months ago” Mickey explained, forcing himself to keep as calm as possible as he continued ringing Ian’s items up. He could feel the green eyes boring into his scalp. Not in a scary way. ”That’ll be 13.80” Mickey said then, and looked up.

 

Ian almost looked to be frozen solid for a second, before finally he nodded sternly and fished his wallet out of his back pocket, handing a couple of crumpled bills over to Mickey, both of them making sure not to touch.

 

Mickey gave him his change and then Ian walked away, leaving Mickey to breathe out. Or so he thought.

 

”Mick?” Mickey frowned, and then spun his chair around.

 

Ian was standing, close to the exit, almost so far away that Mickey couldn’t make out his facial features, and his voice was loud to make sure he caught his ex boyfriend’s attention.

 

Thankfully, it was late, and Mickey was one of the few employees still there - the only one by the cash registers - so it didn’t bother him too much.

 

”Will you have dinner with me?”

 

There were so many fucking reasons why and how Mickey should say no. They had both been through so much shit together, and this time that they had spent broken up, well… it had actually been pretty good. For Mickey, anyway.

 

So yeah. Maybe he should say no. But he felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth, and right then, he knew that he couldn’t.

 

  
”So they let you out for overcrowding or something?” Ian asked, handing Mickey a beer before they made their way over to his couch and sitting down, the pizza on the table in front of them.

 

As awkward as this probably should be, just hanging out at Ian’s apartment, together after so long, it wasn’t, really. It hadn’t been that long since they had broken up, but a lot had happened, and it felt like it by now.

 

Yet, they had beer, pizza, a crappy fucking slasher movie, and somehow, everything was fine. As if the split had never happened to begin with. Well, almost, at least.

 

”Nah” Mickey answered after taking a huge gulp of the alcohol, sighing as the movie started up. ”Pops got to me, so they let me go”

 

He could almost fucking hear Ian freeze, and he knew what was coming before he leaned forwards and muted the television, turning to Mickey.

 

”What?”

 

Mickey sighed, eyes on Ian’s, shrugging.

 

”Not really a big deal, man. I’m fine now” Ian frowned harder, struggling to make sense of all of this. Fuck ’It’s not a big deal’. It was a huge fucking deal.

 

”Must have been bad if they let you out” Ian pointed out, and Mickey couldn’t do anything other than nod as he took another gulp of the beer.

 

”I guess, but it was a few months ago. Like I said, man. I’m fine” Ian sighed deeply, eyes still on Mickey’s.

 

”Aye” Mickey leaned his head to the side when Ian’s eyes started filling up with tears. ”None of that, man”

  
”What if you weren’t? I’m so fucking sorry, Mick” A tear finally spilled over, rolling down Ian’s cheek.

 

Without thinking, Mickey did the one thing he knew would stop his crying. He leaned forwards, placing a soft palm against Ian’s cheek and slotted their lips together.

 

His stomach erupted, his body throbbing, high from feeling this after so fucking long. Ian’s lips fit perfectly in between his own, just like they always had.

 

Ian placed an arm around his waist, tugging him closer to him as the kiss deepened. The pizza was cooling, laying completely forgotten on the coffee table as they stood up and stumbled towards Ian’s bedroom.

 

Mickey’s hand was still resting safely on the side of Ian’s face, the other one in the nape of his neck, tugging at the short, red strands of hair.

 

Ian’s hands slipped underneath his shirt, humming at the warmth. Mickey pulled away from the kiss for a second to peel it off, throwing it to the side.

 

”Fucking perfect” Ian breathed, going in for another kiss.

 

It had all happened too fucking fast. They hadn’t seen each other in months, and now here they were, making out in Ian’s bedroom. It was insane, really. But so fucking right at the same time.

 

”Wait” Ian said, pushing Mickey away from the kiss when his hands started to wander up his shirt.

 

”What?” Mickey asked breathlessly, wracking his brain to find a reason as to why Ian would be against taking his shirt off.

 

Ian was looking down at the floor between them, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. How the fuck was he supposed to do this?

 

”Look, Mick…” He started, and Mickey frowned, starting to get worried. ”After the breakup, I um… I told everyone I was fine, right? I thought I was good without you, but then one night, I kind of, um… I got really drunk and…”

 

  
_”Look, are you sure this is a good idea right now?”_

 

_”Don’t fucking tell me what to do. I - I want it. Right here” Ian said, gesturing towards his heart with the half empty whiskey bottle in his hand. ”Mickey”_

 

_”You’re drunk and you want to have a name tattooed in above your heart?”_

 

_”I’m not paying you to mock me, just - ” Burp. ”Just do it”_

 

  
Ian took a deep breath and peeled his shirt off, bracing himself for impact as Mickey’s eyes fastened onto the ink.

 

It wasn’t a bad tattoo, it was actually really beautifully done. A couple inches high, every cursive letter perfect. But of course, despite that fact, this wasn’t an ideal situation.

 

Mickey let out a small gasp, his hand slipping up, the pads of his fingertips carefully running over the ink.

 

”Ian…” He sighed, lifting his eyes to meet Ian’s, his hand still resting on the tattoo. ”What the fuck?”

  
”I know” Ian said, very obviously ashamed. ”Look, I was drunk and I - ”

 

”Do you regret it?

 

”What?” Ian asked, his hand now resting safely on Mickey’s waist, tugging them slightly closer together.

 

”Do you regret it?” Mickey repeated his question, big blue eyes looking up at Ian.

 

”I… No” Ian admitted. ”No, not for a second” Mickey swallowed, and Ian spun them around, sinking down on the edge of the bed. Mickey surprised him by climbing onto his lap, straddling his jean clad thighs. ”I love you, Mickey. I have for a long time” He explained, and Mickey frowned, waiting for him to finish his thought. ”I never would have gotten it done sober, but I would never have it removed either. You’re the only one”

 

”The only one what?” Mickey asked, locking his hands together in the nape of Ian’s neck.

 

”The only man I’ve ever loved. Only one I ever will” Mickey felt as if his breath had been knocked out of him, as if he was completely frozen. But still so fucking alive.

 

Those words - they were all he had ever wanted to hear come out of Ian’s mouth, and now he had.

 

”You too, Ian” Mickey grinned into the kiss, and they were done talking.


End file.
